


A Happy Coincidence

by The_German_Grim_Reaper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Accident, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, F/M, Gen, Jessica Moore Lives, No Incest, Stanford Era (Supernatural), just let them be FRIENDS goddammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22296241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_German_Grim_Reaper/pseuds/The_German_Grim_Reaper
Summary: Dean Winchester hasn't been in California since his brother left.  Until now, that is.  A chance encounter leads him to Stanford, where he comes face-to-face with someone he thought he'd never see again.Jessica Moore went home for fall break, expecting nothing more than a relaxing break from school and to spend some time with her family.  She never expected to jump in front of a car to save a complete stranger, and she definitely never expected what came after.Samuel Winchester thought he'd left his old life behind when he left for Stanford.  He has a 4.0 GPA, a live-in girlfriend, and a chance at a full ride next year.  Everything is going perfectly- until Jessica comes back from break with another Winchester in tow.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Jessica Moore, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 31
Kudos: 134





	1. Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! I'm back with another fic. I promise I'll update "Ten's A Crowd" soon, but for now have some Supernatural!

It started out simply enough. He was on a hunt in Mammoth Lakes- a series of grave robberies at a local cemetery, whole bodies stolen away in the night. It was in California, sure, but it was miles away from Sam. Palo Alto was more than six hours away from Mammoth Lakes- not that he’d checked, of course not, that would be ridiculous- and the chances of Sam being there were slim to none.

Still, it was the first time he had been in California since Sam left. He’d avoided it as much as he could. It wasn’t as if there was a shortage of monsters to kill, and if he left the ones on the West Coast for other hunters to deal with, well… but Dad had found this, and he had ~~told~~ asked Dean to check it out. When John Winchester gave an order, Dean was sure as hell gonna do it.

And that was how he found himself standing in the middle of a parking lot, staring down a dead man who was grinning at him from behind the wheel. The wheel of a van, to be exact, a large white van that was barrelling towards Dean at 35 miles per hour.

He reached for his gun, but it wasn’t there. _Damn it._ He’d never picked it up when it had fallen in the crypt. A knife wouldn’t do much damage against a car; at this point, it was looking like his only option was to run, and run like hell. The lot was mostly empty, populated only by a new-looking Corvette to his right and a green minivan to his left.

The minivan was closer. He turned, ready to sprint behind it and prepare for the blow. Sure, it would still hurt, but it would slow down the van enough that there was far less of a chance for any serious injuries.

The terrified face of a child stared at him from the window of the car. Dean froze.

“Move!” Someone screamed, and Dean felt something warm and soft come crashing into his side. He fell, forced out of the way by the impact of it, and then there came the sound of a sickening crunch.

It didn’t hurt. Well, it had knocked the wind out of him, but it didn’t _hurt_. Dean’s eyes blinked open slowly, and for a moment all he could see was blonde hair.

The van had come to a stop, the windshield a web of cracks and the driver nowhere to be seen. Distantly, Dean heard the sound of the door slamming and footsteps running away, but he couldn’t focus on that right now. Because on the pavement beside him, blood leaking from a cut on her head, was a young woman.

Her body seemed to curl in on itself as she lay there trembling. So she was alive- that was good, at least. But that van had been meant for _him_. He could handle a few minor injuries, he’d gone through enough shit in life to be sure of that, but now some random innocent had gotten hurt and it was _all his fault_. If he had just finished this in the crypt, if the ghoul hadn’t gotten away…

“Are you ok?” He asked her, crawling over to kneel beside her body.

There was a moment of silence, and then she shakily shook her head. The poor girl looked terrified, her face a mess of tears and her eyes wide with pain.

“What hurts?”

She did not reply.

“Jess! _Jessica_!” Someone screamed, sounding desperate, and there were footsteps running towards them.

“Call an ambulance!” Dean shouted, standing up as quickly as he could. If he was still here when the police got here, there would be a lot of questions he would prefer not to answer.

“Where are you going?” Someone demanded of him as he sprinted off, but he ignored them. It was time to end this.

  
  


A few hours later, with bruises on his knuckles and a suspiciously bloody sledgehammer in the backseat of his car, Dean Winchester strode into the hospital.

“Excuse me, is it still visiting hours?” He asked the woman at the front desk, flashing her his signature smile.

She looked up at him. “Until seven.” She told him. “Who are you here to see?”

He wracked his name for the brain. “...Jessica?” He recalled, hoping that was right. “Blonde hair, got hit by a car?”

She raised one eyebrow, not looking impressed, but dutifully typed something into her computer. “Sorry, you’re out of luck.” She told him. “Family members only until the investigation is complete. Can I leave her a message?”

Dean took a deep breath, then sighed. He leaned forward, widening his eyes a bit and allowing a bit of emotion to play out on his face. “Listen, ma’am, the thing is, this girl saved my life. I just… I just want to thank her. Are you sure there’s nothing you can do?”

The nurse hesitated. “I could get into a lot of trouble…”

“Please?” Dean bit his lip in a way that he knew from experience would do two things: make him look incredibly sincere, and draw her attention to his (absolutely flawless) lips. Hey, just because he was here to be nice didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun.

She held out a moment longer, than nodded. “She’s in room 423. Go up the elevator and take a right, you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.” He allowed a little bit of his trademark grin slip onto his face and gave her a slight nod. Then he turned down the hallway, following the signs that said ‘elevators’. He almost wanted to roll his eyes; that had been too easy.

Jessica’s room was easy to find, just like she’d promised. When he found it, he glanced around before pressing his ear to the door cautiously. There were no voices; she must not have anyone visiting at the moment. He pushed open the door slowly, gently, not wanting to startle the girl.

She was sitting up in bed, one arm in a cast while her other held a cup of jello. She blinked at his arrival, but otherwise did not outwardly react.

“Hi,” He greeted her, suddenly feeling very awkward. Why had he come here? It wasn’t like this was the first time someone had saved his ass. He didn’t exactly make a habit of visiting them in hospital rooms.

She’d been _hit by a car_ for him, his brain argued. That was different. He owed her a visit, at least.

“Hi.”

“So… you come here often?” He offered, then flushed as he realized how silly that sounded. Of course she didn’t come here often. This was a hospital.

She cracked a smile. “Never been hit by a car before,” she said, “so that’s new. But I’ve visited?”

“Good, that’s good.” He said. “Well, um, I just came by to say thank you. I guess I’ll go.”

“No, no stay.” She insisted, setting down her jello cup on the bedside table. “My parents left, like, an hour ago and I’m bored. Talk to me.”

Dean hesitated before agreeing. What was he doing? Sure, the girl was hot (and, to be honest, completely his type) but that wasn’t why he was here. He was here because… well, because he felt _guilty_. That wasn’t exactly a new emotion, but it was an unpleasant one, and he’d wanted to make sure she was okay.

He sat down in the chair. It was hard and uncomfortable, but it was probably better than being on the floor. They were quiet for a moment.

“Why did you save me?” He asked, after several seconds had ticked by in an uncomfortable silence. And _that_ was it. That was the question he’d come here to answer. Of all the people in the world, of all the actually _good_ people, why had she chosen to risk her life for _him_?

“I wasn’t really thinking.” She admitted, looking a bit sheepish. “I saw you were in trouble and I just… reacted, I guess.”

“Well… thank you.” He said. He didn’t tell her that he’d tracked down the thing that had done it, that he’d bashed it’s head in with a hammer and left it in an alley, that if he’d been the one to be hit he wouldn’t have been able to. He didn’t say any of that, but he thought it, and that was enough.

“No problem.” She smiled wryly. “Just try not to do it again- I’m not sure my insurance can take it.”

He was silent.

“I’m joking.” She clarified a moment later. “I have great insurance. Or, at least, my parents do. And no offense, but I’m not going to be jumping in front of any more cars for you, no matter _how_ many times you promise to thank me.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “I can handle myself, trust me. I think one time is enough for the whole car-jumping-thing.”

“Good.” There was another moment of silence, and then, “How did you get in here, anyway? I thought they were only letting family members in. I’ve got, like, a million people who wanted to visit and they were all turned away.”

“I have my ways.” He smirked. “The name’s Dean, by the way.”

“Hmm.” She looked over his face, as if searching for something. “Jess. Jessica Moore.”

“Did the doctors say how long you’ll be in here?” He asked, looking to change the topic.

“Just a couple of days.” She shrugged with her good arm. “I’ve got a fractured rib and a lot of bruising, but that’s about it. They said it just clipped me- if it had hit me dead on, I’d be in a coma right now.”

Dean swallowed. _He_ would be in a coma. If this girl hadn’t saved him...damn it, he should have just killed it in the crypt and none of this would have happened.

“Oh my god.” She groaned. Dean’s whole body immediately tensed, expecting danger, but she just sounded resigned. “I have to call Sam- he’s gonna _freak_.”

It was a common name. Too common, really. It was almost impossible that she was talking about Sam- _his_ Sam- even if they _were_ in California and she looked about Sam’s age and- and-

She was staring at him. He coughed, then, realizing that he had probably been silent for far too long. “Sorry, what?” He asked.

“You, like, totally blanked out.” She told him. “Are you ok? Do you have a concussion or something?”

“What? No. Why would I have a concussion?”

“Well, you did hit the ground pretty hard, even if the car didn’t hit you.” She pointed out. “Delayed response is one of the biggest indications of a concussion.”

“Well, I don’t have a concussion.” he snapped peevishly. Then he shook his head to clear it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

She looked at him sympathetically. “Irritability is another symptom of being concussed. You should really get yourself checked out.”

He tried to glare at her, but it didn’t really work. “I don’t have a concussion.” He said again. (He probably did. But, hey, it was nothing he hadn’t dealt with a hundred times before.) “What were you saying before?”

“Nothing.” She told him. “I was saying I had to call my boyfriend and you just blanked.”

“Your boyfriend.” He repeated. “Whose name is Sam.”

She nodded slowly, still looking somewhat concerned.

“Sorry.” he said again. “It’s just, my brother’s name is Sam and I haven’t talked to him in a while. Just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“ _Hmm_.” She said again, narrowing her eyes. “Your brother, what’s he like?” She asked. “Tell me about him.”

Dean blinked. “I should really be going…”

“Listen.” She said sharply. “I have been stuck in this bed for the past four hours, alone for three of them, and I am bored out of my mind. I might have saved your life; the least you could do is distract me a while.”

“I can think of a few other ways I could distract you,” he offered, giving her a lecherous smirk. She rolled her eyes.

“What part of ‘I have a boyfriend’ do you not understand? I want someone to talk to, you have a mysterious brother you haven’t talked to in a while, it’s not rocket science.”

Dean sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, she kind of had a point. “Sam is… well, he’s Sam.” He began, not really sure what else to say. “He’s smart, like scary smart. Left the family business to go to college, not sure what happened to him after that.”

“There’s got to be more than that.” She insisted. “What’s he _like_?”

Dean considered it, then shrugged. _Why the hell not?_ “He’s younger than me.” He began. “About four years younger. Our dad wasn’t around a whole lot, so I ended up looking after him. He hates it when I call him Sammy and he would probably live inside the library if they’d let him.”

“So it must’ve hurt, then.” She said sympathetically. “When he left for Stanford. You two must have been really close when you were kids.”

He nodded in agreement before he’d even registered what she was saying. “Wait, what?” He realized. “I never said anything about Stanford.”

She paused, looking surprised with herself. “I mean, I don’t know for sure.” She began, almost sounding nervous. “It just sort of slipped out, I guess.”

“But you said Stanford.” He insisted. “Why Stanford?”

She was silent for a long moment. “You don’t look like him, you know.” She admitted. “But the story matches up.”

Dean swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of his rapidly beating heartbeat and the sweat forming on his palms. He already knew what she was going to say, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear it. “You’re wrong.” He said, his throat suddenly dry.

“Am I? I mean, the names could be a coincidence.” She allowed. “But are you really going to tell me that it’s not him? My Sam is twenty-two. He doesn’t like to talk about his family, but I know he was never close with his dad. And I know… I know his brother’s name was Dean.”

Dean’s thoughts were racing. This was impossible, there was no way the girl who’d saved his life just _happened_ to be dating his little brother. But, when she laid it all out like that... “Well.” He said. “Shit.”


	2. Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one chapter left! And please, if you have any name ideas for this fic, let me know. I stared at it for like half an hour and couldn't think of anything good.

Sam was in the middle of writing an essay when he got the call. He glanced at the screen, not really intending to answer it, when the name caught his eye.

Mr Moore. Jessica’s father. What possible reason could Jessica’s father have for calling him in the middle of the day? He couldn’t be meaning to talk to Jessica; they were on fall break, and she had gone to stay with her family for the week. Sam had remained behind in their apartment at Stanford, not wanting to impose after he’d spent half the summer with them.

He answered it. “Hello?”

“Sam?” It was definitely Mr Moore’s voice, but something about it felt strange. Almost like he was… overly emotional, or something.

Sam’s heart dropped. Had he figured out that Sam was going to propose? He hadn’t finished paying off the ring yet, and he _had_ been planning on asking for permission, he just hadn’t done it yet.

“Yes, Mr Moore?” He asked cautiously.

Mr Moore barked a laugh. “How many times have I told you to call me Trent?” Sam relaxed at that. If Mr Moore was still insisting on being called by his first name, he couldn’t be too angry.

“What’s going on, sir?” Sam asked, now having absolutely no idea why he had been called.

On the other end of the line, Mr Moore took a deep, shaky breath. Suddenly, Sam had a horrible feeling that this was something much, much worse than a spoiled surprise.

“It’s about Jessica.” He said. Sam’s heart dropped out of his chest. “There’s been an accident.”

“Is she okay?” Sam demanded.

Mr Moore sighed. “They say she’ll be fine.” He said. “She’s got a fractured rib and they should be releasing her tomorrow. I tried to convince her to stay at home and rest, but she says she wants to go back to Stanford so she doesn’t miss classes.”

It was Sunday, the last day of fall break. Jess didn’t have any classes on Mondays, so she’d been planning on coming back then.

“Can I talk to her?” He asked hopefully.

“No can do.” Mr Moore told him apologetically. “We’ve already left the hospital, and her phone was broken in the accident. I’ll get her to call you in the morning, alright?”

Sam let out a deep breath. “Alright, sir.” He said. Then he hesitated. “What kind of accident was it, if you don’t mind my asking?”

The Moore family owned two cars and a speedboat. They had always been careful drivers, but…

“She was hit by a car.” He said. “It came out of nowhere. In the middle of a parking lot, going way too fast. It was headed for someone else, but she… she pushed him out of the way.”“Who?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea.” Mr Moore admitted. “It all happened so fast… we were at the store getting groceries and then all of a sudden she was on the ground. She’s going to be alright, but… I thought you would want to know.”

Sam nodded and thanked the man before hanging up. A car crash. Of all the ways for Jess to get hurt, it had been a freaking car crash. He’d been terrified that his past would catch up with him, that she’d get caught by a vengeful spirit or a hungry werewolf. He had never considered that something so simple- so _mundane_ \- could have taken her from him.

She’d pushed someone out of the way of a speeding car. Of all the ways she could have gotten hurt, that was… well, it was very Jessica. She always had been a bit of a Gryffindor.

“ _Fuck_.” He buried his head in his hands, the essay forgotten. She’d been hit by a car. She could have died, and he hadn’t even known. _She’s coming home tomorrow_ , he reminded himself. She was coming home tomorrow, and she was going to be fine.

  
  
  


On Monday, a little after 1:00 in the afternoon, Sam got a text from an unknown number. _Be there in 10_ , it read.

He took a deep breath. It had only been a week since he’d seen her, but this was nerve-wracking. She had been hit by a car. He just needed to know that she was alright.

About fifteen minutes after the text, Sam heard a knock at the door. He practically flew to open it, light-footed and quiet. It was pure instinct, a habit ingrained into him since he’d been a child, that led to him checking the peephole.

Sam’s heart stopped.

He took a deep, shaky breath. Jessica, he had been expecting. The familiar face standing next to her, still wearing that old leather jacket… well, that was a surprise.

He counted to three, then looked through the hole again. His brother was still there. Jessica seemed to be leaning on him, and Dean was looking at her almost… fondly?

Sam opened the door. Dean’s attention snapped to him at the first creak of the knob, but Sam didn’t stop. For several seconds, they both stared at one another. Then, without warning, Dean took a step towards him.

Sam lashed out. One hand caught Dean squarely in the jaw, the other ready to follow it before Dean’s hands caught his wrist. “The hell was that for, Sammy?” He demanded, almost sounding offended.

“Dean?” How was he here? How, and more importantly, _why_?

“Uh, yeah, obviously.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Can we come in?”

Without waiting for an answer, he shoved past Sam. Jessica hobbled after him, practically collapsing into Sam’s arms. He refocused his attention on her; his brother could wait.

“Are you okay?” He asked her tenderly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of her eye. “What happened?”

“Your idiot brother almost got hit by a car.” She explained. “Now come on, help me to the couch, my ribcage can _not_ take standing up right now.”

Sam had had far worse than a fractured rib in his time. But, then again, Jess wasn’t Sam. “Of course.” He agreed, supporting her as she hobbled over to their faded red sofa. She sat down and beckoned for him to sit next to her. After a moment of hesitation, he did.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Sammy.” Dean commented from his position on the recliner. Sam glowered at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sam!” Jessica scolded him, lightly swatting him with one hand. “Don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, Sam.” Dean repeated, sounding very smug. “Don’t be rude.”

“What,” Sam repeated, enunciating clearly, “are you doing here?”

“I was in the area.” Dean replied easily. “I was hunting… _deer_ down by Mammoth Lakes. Our eyes met in the parking lot, and the rest is history.”

Now Jess was scowling, but there was a good-natured glimmer in her eyes. “He nearly got plowed over outside the Krogers. Came to visit me in the hospital, we got to talking, and… well, somehow it came up that he was your brother. I figured, I couldn’t just let him leave California without so much as stopping by.”

There was a flash of emotion in Dean’s eyes at this, almost too quick for Sam to notice. His own eyes narrowed. Guilt? Had his brother really been so close, and not been going to stop?

“Quite a coincidence, her running into you.” He told his brother coolly.

Dean shrugged. “I can go, if you want.” There was a challenge in his eyes.

Sam held his gaze for a moment, then sighed and let his gaze drop. “No, stay if you want. We’ve got plenty of room.”  
“Well, I’ve got places to be- there’s this hunting trip down in New Orleans.” His brother said, suddenly looking as if he were as awkward as Sam felt. “But thanks.”

“Stay the night, at least.” Sam found himself saying. “It’s a long drive.”

Before Dean could reply, Sam’s phone rang. He glanced at it, once again not really intending to pick it up. _LIZZIE_ , the caller ID read. He groaned.

“It’s for you, Jess.” He told her, passing the phone to his girlfriend. A small smile flitted across her face when she read the name, and then she rolled her eyes.

“Could you give me a minute?” She asked. “It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” Sam stood up as Jess answered the phone. He motioned for Dean to follow him.

“Hey Lizzie- yes it’s true, I really did- no, you don’t have to fly out here, I’ll be fine-”

He stepped into the bedroom, pausing a moment for Dean to follow, and shut the door behind them. “What was it?” He asked, all business now that Jess was out of earshot.

Dean blinked. “What was what?”

“The monster.” Sam replied. “The thing you were hunting. Because you and I both know, it wasn’t deer. And if that thing has a chance of hurting me, or Jess, or any of our friends…”

“It’s taken care of.” Dean promised.

“Tell me.” Sam insisted.

Dean sighed. “Ghoul,” he said. “It got away from me in the graveyard, I tracked it to downtown, and the damn thing tried to run me over.”

“The ghoul was driving?” Sam felt a little bit fainter at hearing that. Of _course_ the ghoul had been driving. Even a seemingly-mundane accident was, at its root, caused by the things they hunted.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean said then, giving him a surprisingly understanding look. “It’s taken care of. That thing won’t bother anyone again.”

Sam nodded, feeling as if a weight had been taken off his chest. “It’s been four years, Dean.” He said, looking into his older brother’s eyes. “Why here? Why now?”

Dean shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Accident, mostly.” He admitted. “I wasn’t going to come by at all, but…” His gaze drifted to the door, and Sam understood.

“But you met Jessica.” He realized. “She, what, somehow figured out who you were and convinced you to come visit?”

Dean nodded sheepishly.

Sam smiled at that, an actual genuine smile. “Of course she did,” he said, shaking his head. “Of freaking course she did.”

“Did what?” Jess asked from the other room. Sam groaned inwardly as he remembered how thin the walls were here. He’d been too loud.

“Talked me into stopping by.” Dean replied, just as loudly.

“Oh.” There was a moment of silence, and then, “You can come back in, you know. I’m off the phone now.”

“Lizzie alright?” Sam asked her, opening the door.

“Yeah.” Jess replied, giving him a brilliant smile. “She’s doing great, just heard about the accident and wanted to make sure I was ok. Don’t worry, I talked her out of flying down here and sleeping on our couch.”

Sam laughed and went to sit down by his girlfriend. “How are you feeling?” He asked warmly.

“Like I’ve been run over by a van.” She deadpanned, then cracked a smile. “But seriously, though, I think I’m okay. It hurts to move a lot but when I’m sitting still it’s fine.”

“You got any beer?” Dean asked. Sam wasn’t quite sure which of them the question was directed to, but he answered anyway.

“Uh, I think Luis left a Bud Lite in the fridge?” He offered. Dean made a face and flopped back into the armchair, making no move to go to the fridge.

All three of them were quiet for a few minutes. Sam was amazed to see just how _normal_ all this felt- him and Dean, in the same room as one another. It felt as natural as breathing, and he wondered how he’d managed without it all this time. Maybe he didn’t have to cut Dean out of his life just to be normal. Maybe he could live his normal, apple-pie life, get his degree and get married to Jessica, and still be friends with his brother.

Of course, all good things come to an end. No sooner had Sam thought about this then Jess’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“Sam…” She began, sounding unusually unsure of herself.

“Yeah?”

“What exactly is the ‘family business’?”

He’d had several years to think of a suitable lie, not that he’d had to use it often. “Cars.” He lied, hating himself for doing so. “Buying, selling, fixing, trading parts. Not something I’ve ever been interested in, personally.”

He’d mentioned it before, in passing, but they’d never really talked about it. Now, he was surprised to feel her tense up beside him. “Bullshit.” She said.

“What?”

“Bull. _Shit_ .” She enunciated. “You’re always vague about your family, your brother was in town on a ‘hunting trip’, and you have a million scars that _don’t_ add up with your being a mechanic. I’m not an idiot, Sam Winchester.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“Well, Sammy’s always been clumsy.” Dean lied smoothly, with a charming smile.

Jess looked unimpressed. “Are you criminals?” She asked. “Is that what this is? Are you in the mob?”

“What? No!”

“Then what are you?” She demanded. “What am I supposed to think? None of this makes any sense.”

Sam considered it carefully. He didn’t want to keep lying to her, but…

“Look.” Dean said. “The truth is, we’re bounty hunters. The guy that was trying to hit me, he was a former capture of mine that broke out of prison and wanted revenge.”

Sam looked at him incredulously.

“Uh-huh.” Jess said flatly. “There were corpses in the back, Dean. With bite marks on them.”

“I…” He trailed off at that, not even Dean being able to come up with a reasonable explanation for that.

Sam looked at him, and then slowly nodded. “Alright, Jess.” He said quietly. “I guess it’s time to tell you the truth.”

“The _real_ truth, this time.” She insisted. He gave her a nod.

“The thing is… my family does a lot of hunting. Just… not the kind of hunting you’re used to.”

Dean gave him a look. “Sammy, you sure about this?”

Sam ignored him and took a deep breath. This was going to sound crazy, but if he knew Jess- and he did, they had been together for over a year now- she would hear him out. If she couldn’t handle it, he might just be throwing away the best relationship he had ever known. But, well, this was Jessica. He had a feeling she could handle it.

He’d been living a lie his entire life. Maybe, just this once, it was time to tell the truth.


	3. Jess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...wow. so that's it. we're done. this is the last chapter, I hope you enjoy. it's always possible I'll post another one-shot or something in this same universe, but I can make no promises.
> 
> Here's an actual hunt, and from Jess's perspective! The pilot, plus Jess. And if you want to scream at me about that ending in the comments, feel free. I did leave it on a bit of a cliffhanger... what happens next is up to your imagination, unless of course I actually get around to writing more in this verse.
> 
> (seriously. please scream at me in the comments. it gives me validation.)

Jess thought she’d handled things pretty well, considering. Being hit by a car to save a stranger who turned out to be her boyfriend’s mysterious brother? That was enough weirdness to last a whole year. Finding out, only days later, that monsters are real and her boyfriend used to hunt them for a living? Well, that was on a whole other level.

Still, they’d worked it out. Sam had told her the truth (although she wished it hadn’t taken him so long) and things had been awkward for a few days, but now they were fine. Or, at least, they were fine until the day after Halloween. 4:16 AM, to be exact.

Sam woke her up in the middle of the night. Her head was pounding and she wanted nothing more than to fall back into oblivion, but there was an urgency to his movements that made her pay attention.

“There’s someone in the apartment.” He whispered, so low and near to her ear that she could barely hear him. “I’m gonna check it out.”

Before she could respond, he was out of the bed and creeping across the room in complete silence. She had never seen him like this before, so careful and deliberate in a way that almost frightened her. She forced herself to sit up, silently berating herself for having had so much to drink the night before, and reached for the knife that she now knew lay hidden in the drawer of their nightstand.

The silence was broken as the sounds of a fight reached Jess’s ears. She fumbled with the latch on the drawer, starting to become frantic. Finally, after what felt like ages, she got it open and wrapped her hand around the handle of the knife and pulling it out. Then, out of the blackness, she heard a familiar voice.

“Whoah, easy, tiger.”

It took her a moment to place it. When she did, she relaxed her fingers around the wooden grip and slid out of bed, feeling the cold hardwood floor beneath her feet.

“Sam?” She asked, flicking on the lightswitch as she entered the hallway. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw her boyfriend glaring at another, shorter figure. “Dean? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Jess.” Dean gave her a friendly grin, but there was something… not quite right about it. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. “A knife, really? I’m offended.”

She shrugged, setting the knife down on the counter as she made her way into the kitchen. “It’s the middle of the fucking night.” She told him flatly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Looking for a beer.” He snarked, but stopped when he got a closer look at her face. “Are you drunk?”

She glared at him.

“You could’ve called.” Sam told him quietly. “Is something wrong?”

Dean hesitated, giving Jess a glance. If she had been fully awake, she probably would have gotten on his case about that. As it was, she just wanted to sleep. The adrenaline from the break-in hadn’t faded, but her heartbeat was beginning to calm down.

“Dean.” Sam said. “Whatever it is, you can say it in front of Jess.”

“...Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.” He said reluctantly.

Now Sam glanced at Jess, almost looking concerned for her. “What was he hunting?”

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “I was down in New Orleans, dealing with some hoodoo thing. I got a message from Dad and he sounded pretty freaked out. Haven’t heard from him since.”

“So what do you want us to do?”

“Well…” Dean gave another glance at Jess. “Dad’s missing. I need your help to find him.”

Sam sighed. “You can’t just show up in the middle of the night and expect me to drive off with you.” He argued. Jess blinked; she hadn’t even registered that that’s what Dean was asking.

“You aren’t hearing me, man. Dad’s _missing_.”

“Remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil’s Gates in Cliffton? He’s always missing, and he’s always fine.”

“Not for this long.”

Jess groaned inwardly. She had a feeling that, if she didn’t step in now, this was going to become a full blown argument. “What was the message?” She asked.

Dean blinked. “What?”

“The message.” She reminded him. “You said your dad called and left you a message; what was it?”

“It’s in the car.” He told her.

“What, you couldn’t just save it on your phone?” She rolled her eyes. “Let me grab my jacket.”

“For what?” Dean asked, but Sam was already shaking his head.

“No. No, no, no, Jess, we are not just _taking off_ in the middle of the night to go who knows where.”

“Why not? I know you didn’t get along with your dad, but look at Dean. He _needs_ you.”

Sam held her gaze for several seconds. Finally, his gaze dropped and he sighed. “Fine.” He said. “But we have to be back here by Monday.”

“For what?” Dean looked a little bit lost. “And there is no ‘we’ here. I’m not taking a civilian on a hunt.”

“If you’re taking Sam, you’re taking me.” She argued stubbornly. “We’re a package deal.”

Dean stared at her for several seconds, then groaned. “Fine. But you are _not_ getting in my way.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She yawned. “Now let’s go, because I am going to pass out any minute and I’m sure you’d rather not have to carry me.”

True to her word, she did pass out. Still, at least she’d made it into the backseat before she did so. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on by that point, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was going to have one _hell_ of a hangover in the morning.

When Jess woke up, they were at a truck stop somewhere just past Sacramento. It was the smell of burgers that woke her up.  
“Hungry?” Dean offered, grinning as he handed her a greasy bag of fast food. As if on cue, her stomach growled. “Hangover kick in yet?”

“I think I slept through the worst of it, thank god.” She told him, before shoving a fistful of fries into her mouth.

“Yeah, well, it’s about time you woke up. We’ll be there in an hour.”

“Where?” She asked, swallowing her mouthful of fries.

“Jericho, California.” Sam replied, getting back into the front seat. “A string of disappearances all along this old highway. It’s where Dad was when he called Dean.”

“So you’re thinking, what, vampires? Werewolves? More ghouls?” She guessed.

Dean gave her a look. “Sorry to break it to you, but vampires aren’t real.”

“And ghouls only go after dead things.” Sam added, much less sarcastically than his brother. “I don’t know what this is, but it must be pretty big if it got to Dad.”

“Fill me in?”

  
  


By the time they reached Jericho, Jess was well and truly caught up on all things related to the case. Not long after they’d passed the town limits, however, the sound of sirens reached her ears.

There were several police cars parked next to an old-looking bridge. Dean pulled over, narrowing his eyes at the scene. Jess followed his gaze and held back a cry of shock as she saw a car on the bridge, the windshield smashed in and covered in blood. Memories of her own crash sprung, unbidden, into her mind and she shook her head to clear them away.

She watched as Dean pulled out two cards from a pile of fake IDs. She was no stranger to fake IDs herself- every college student had one, or at least it seemed that way- but this was on a whole other level. “Federal Marshals?” She demanded of them in a hushed voice. “That’s illegal!”

“So are credit card scams, sweetheart, and I didn’t see you complaining about those earlier when I bought you breakfast.”

She gaped at him. “Credit card s- oh my god, I’m going to get arrested.”

“You’re not going to get arrested.” Sam assured her. “Just stay in the car, we’ll figure this out.”

She was all too happy to comply, slouching down in the backseat so that the police wouldn’t see her through the windows. She’d known they broke laws hunting, but impersonating federal officers? Credit card scams? No wonder Sam had wanted to get out of that life.

They had only been gone a few minutes when Jess felt another car pull up beside them. She peered out of the window, as carefully as she could, and was met with writing that read “Federal Marshals”. She sank back down into the seat, cursing their luck, and waited with bated breath for the boys to return.

The moment they did, she sat up and gave them a glare. “We have to go.” She said. “ _Now_.”

“I know.” Sam agreed grimly. “Dean’s just done everything he possibly can to piss them off.”

“We’ve got bigger problems than that. The actual Federal Marshals are here.”

Dean cursed. Still, it seemed to get him moving, and within moments they were speeding off and away from the crime scene.

While Sam and Dean went off to talk with the victim’s girlfriend, Jessica checked them into a motel. Well, _the_ motel. There only seemed to be the one. She hesitated before giving the clerk her own credit card. Dean could run his scams if he wanted to, but there was no way in hell she was getting involved.

“And what brings you to Jericho?” The clerk asked her absentmindedly as he rang up her card. “Not exactly a tourist attraction.”

She hesitated. “...Family business.” It wasn’t even a lie, technically.

He didn’t seem to care much, because he didn’t ask any further questions. Jess took her card back, then the room key, and headed down the hall to find their room.

She texted Sam and Dean the room number, sprinkled some salt around the door and windows (the one quick and easy tip she’d been able to pick up from Sam in the past few days) and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Steam rose up from the hot water as it splashed against her skin, fogging up the mirrors.

By the time she got out, Sam and Dean were already sitting on the beds. She didn’t ask how they’d gotten in; after fake I.Ds and credit card scams, a little bit of lockpicking seemed almost mundane. “Find anything?” She asked them, tossing her phone on the bed besides Sam.

“We think it’s a vengeful spirit.” To her surprise, Dean was the one who replied. “There was a suicide around here that fits the time frame. We were going to go check out the bridge later tonight.”

“Will it be dangerous?” She couldn’t help but ask, her eyes darting over to Sam.

“It shouldn’t be.” He assured her. “All of the disappearances have been people travelling alone; Dean and I will be there together.”

She hesitated before asking her next question. The one she was sure she was going to regret later. “Could… could I come with you?”

Sam, if anything, looked even more taken aback than Dean. “Come with us?” He repeated. “Jess…”

“You said yourself it won’t be dangerous.” She reminded him. “I promise I won’t get in your way, I just want to see how this works. I can’t be stuck in this hotel room _all_ the time, you know.”

“No!” Sam objected. “You’ve never been on a hunt before, what if you get hurt?”

“She can handle herself, Sammy.” Dean told him softly. “All the attacks have been on men, anyway, so if anything she’s even safer than we’ll be.”

There was a moment of tense silence, and then Sam sighed. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He grumbled.

Jess smiled softly, sitting herself on the bed next to him and taking his hand in her own. “I can look after myself.” She promised him. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Just… promise me you’ll be careful?” He asked, looking at her with those big brown eyes.

“Of course.” She agreed.

  
  


And she was- careful, that is. Unfortunately, bad things can happen even to the most careful of people. At the last moment she chickened out, choosing to stay in the car and watch them from afar. All was well- apart from the vanishing apparition on the edge of the bridge, which was gone before she could even blink- until the engine began to rumble.

She tensed up. Dean had the keys… she’d seen him take them on his way out of the car. There was no one in the driver’s seat. And yet, the car was running.

There was a flicker, and then the ghostly woman was sitting there. She was dressed in white, her skin as pale as death and her eyes cold as stone. She barely even seemed to acknowledge Jess’s existence, instead focusing her mighty intensity on the boys.

It was terrifying. Still, she had to at least _try_ the diplomatic approach. “I… don’t suppose you’re just here for the air conditioning?” She asked hopefully.

The ghost didn’t even acknowledge her, but it reached for the shift and put the car in drive.

“Yeah.” She said to herself. “I didn’t think so.”

Still, she couldn’t run without warning the boys. The ghost was in the front seat, in between her and the horn, but… She kicked out, her foot going straight through the white-clad woman, hitting the center of the steering wheel as hard as she could. The horn sounded, and Sam and Dean looked up.

The ghostly figure was looking at her now, her expression twisted into an ugly snarl. She looked more skeleton than human. “Oh, _hell_ no.” Jess mumbled, fumbling with the lock. Before she could throw herself out of the car, ghostly fingernails dug into her ankle. She wrenched herself free, flinging herself onto the concrete of the bridge.

She hit the ground hard. Her left ankle was burning with an icy pain, her right side and shoulder aching from being slammed into the concrete. The car was already moving, headed straight towards Sam and Dean. She sat up, ignoring the stinging pain, and strained to see them in the darkness.

The car was barrelling towards them as they ran. As she watched, Sam flung himself over the side of the bridge, closely followed by Dean. From her angle, she could see Sam’s hand clasp onto the railing, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

The car slowed to a stop. The woman’s form flickered once before vanishing from the driver’s seat. Jess hobbled to her feet as Sam climbed his way back onto the bridge, closely followed by Dean.

“Jess!” Sam shouted, running towards her.

“I’m okay, I’m fine.” She promised him. She didn’t feel ‘fine’ in the slightest, but she would live, and there were more important things right now than her bleeding leg. Sam reached her and wrapped her in a hug.

Wordlessly, all three of them turned to the Impala. There was no sign of the malevolent ghost that had occupied it just moments ago.  
  


Back at the hotel, the first point of order was to clean and bandage her wounds. As Dean worked, she marvelled at the deep gouge marks on her ankle that no human hand could have left behind. Once he was done, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, although her dreams were full of ghostly women and car crashes.

She slept most of the day. By the time Jess woke up, Dean was gone. She looked at Sam questioningly. “He just left.” He told her. “Gonna grab us some dinner.”

As if on cue, Jess’s stomach rumbled. “I think I’ll go catch up with him.” She told Sam. “Want anything?”

He shook his head. “Are you sure you can walk on that leg?”

“I’ll be fine.” She assured him, tugging on a pair of jeans before reaching for her shoes.

She headed to the lobby, limping slightly as she went. Her lower leg still throbbed from the Constance-inflicted injuries, but she was sure she could make it to the diner and back without any trouble.

She made it to the end of the hallway. The motel clerk was nowhere to be seen, but through the glass doors she could see the flashing blue lights of police cars. One of the officers’ eyes met hers, and her stomach dropped.

Suddenly she was being yanked back into the hallway, a hand covering her mouth. “Cops.” Sam’s voice whispered in her ear. “We gotta go.”

He removed his hand. “What about Dean?” She whispered back.

He shook his head. “There’s a fire escape on the second floor. Come on, we’ll take the stairs.”

Jess wasn’t quite sure how she and Sam got separated. One moment, they were sneaking up the stairs and towards the fire escape. The next, there was a cop in between them and she had nowhere to run.

Her eyes met Sam’s over the cop’s shoulder. He was at the doorway to the fire escape, looking back at her with wide eyes. He made a move like he was going to come to her rescue, and she shook her head minutely. _Run_ , she mouthed. There was no sense in all _three_ of them getting caught.

The cop turned to see what she was looking at, but Sam was already gone. The door slammed shut behind him as the fire alarms started blaring. With a sigh, Jess held out her hands and allowed herself to be handcuffed.

“I don’t think you understand just the kind of trouble you and these boys are in.” The sheriff said, standing across from her at the table. _Pierce_ , his nametag read. She was sitting in the interrogation room- a situation she’d never expected to be in before she’d met the brothers- but at least they’d had the decency to undo her handcuffs.

“Sir,” she tried, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look,” he said, an almost sympathetic look in his eye as he glanced over her. She knew how it must look: a college-age girl, no makeup, bruises down her arm and a bandage on her leg. “I don’t know how you got involved with this. Did they kidnap you?”

She shook her head silently.

“I can cut you a deal.” He promised her. “You agree to testify against them, I can clear you of all charges. You were acting under duress.”

She took a deep breath, then swallowed. “Could… could you sit down, please?” She asked quietly, hating the way her voice shook as she spoke. “It makes me nervous when you’re standing over me like that.”

He nodded and sat down in the chair opposite her, looking almost apologetic. “I can understand how you must be feeling. But those boys are dangerous. We think they’re involved in a kidnapping ring going back more than 20 years.”

“They would have been children.” She pointed out. _Please, Sam, have a plan for this_. She prayed silently. _Get me the fuck out of here before I slip up and say something I’ll regret_.

“They’re working with an older man. Have you met him?” The sheriff pushed a small photo across the table to her, an older man who looked a lot like Dean but with darker hair.

She took a deep, shaky breath, not sure how to respond. This was bad. This was very bad. They had her name- they had to, from her credit card at the hotel. They had Dean. They had a picture of Sam’s dad, even if they didn’t seem to know where he was. It would only be a matter of time before they figured out Sam’s identity, and then there was no way he’d get that full ride next year, even if he managed not to get arrested. _Shit_.

He must have mistaken her silence for consideration. “If you know anything about this, tell me now.” He said. “No matter what they’ve threatened you with. We’ve got enough evidence to put them in jail for a long, long time- we just need to know where to find them first.”

Her mind was racing. Maybe if she could feed them bad information, lead them on the wrong track… at least Sam would be able to escape, if not break Dean out. “I… only know a little bit.” She hedged.

“Tell me.” Sheriff Pierce invited. “Anything you know will help.”

“They… they’ve got a home base.” She invented, hoping that those improv classes she’d taken last semester would pay off. “An apartment. They were planning to go there once they’d finished up here, lay low for a bit.”

“An apartment?” He asked, a flicker of interest in his eye. “Where?”

She wracked her mind, trying to come up with an answer that would sound legitimate. She had to lead them away from Stanford. Sam and Dean were from Kansas, originally, so that was out of the question. But it had to be close enough that they could reasonably get there in a day or so, otherwise he’d know she was making this up. “...Salt Lake City.” She said after a brief hesitation. “The apartment is in Salt Lake City. We were supposed to head out at the end of the week…”

He nodded, jotting something down on his notepad. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but before he could, another officer stuck his head into the room.

“We’ve got a 911.” He warned them. “Shots fired down on Whiteford Road.”

The sheriff nodded, turning back to Jessica. “I’ve got to take this. You stay here, keep the door closed.”

She nodded. He got up and left the room, but she remained seated. Even from where she was sitting, she could hear that the lock didn’t click on his way out. _Amateur_. She was hardly an expert at breaking out from police stations, but even she knew you weren’t supposed to leave the doors unlocked. She must have really sold that ‘innocent victim’ act.

She counted to thirty, then stood up and crept over to the door. There were no windows, so she opened it as quietly as she could. It creaked loudly and she froze, but there was no sound of movement outside. Slowly, she pushed the door open.

Finding Dean wasn’t hard after that- there were only two interrogation rooms, and they were right next to each other. His was locked, of course, but before she had even a second to consider picking the lock, it clicked open from the other side. The door swung open and she stood face-to-face with Dean.

“...Huh.” He said, blinking in surprise. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Come on.” She said. “Before they get back.”

“We gotta call Sam.” He told her as they slipped out of the building.

In response, she tossed him her phone.

“Perfect.” He said. “I’ll get us a ride, you get Sammy on the line.”

Of course, nothing ever worked out well for the Winchesters. Jess’s phone call to Sam had been interrupted by the screech of tires and an ethereal voice. “Ghost’s got him.” She told Dean as he pulled up beside her in a stolen car.

He cursed. She got into the car beside him, doing her best to ignore the less-than-questionable legality of what they were doing, and they sped off.

“He was on his way to Constance’s old house.” She explained quickly. “I think she must’ve appeared in the road- the connection cut off but I definitely heard her talking.”

“The house isn’t far.” He told her, stepping on the gas. She did not approve of the speed they were going, especially since they weren’t out of the town limits, but Sam was in danger. That was more important. Still, it would have been a special kind of irony if they’d been pulled over for a speeding ticket not five minutes after breaking out.

When they reached the Impala, it was dark. Their headlights illuminated the spectral form of Constance in the driver’s seat, Sam nowhere to be seen. Considering that Constance was leaning over something, and Sam’s screams had to be coming from _somewhere_ … she didn’t want to think about it.

Dean leapt out of the car before he’d even finished putting it in park. Jess yelped and reached for the gear shift, not wanting to get into her third car-related accident within the month. Dean was firing at the Impala, shattering the glass of the windows. Constance’s ghost flickered, then vanished.

Sam sat up, sweat dripping down his face. He said something that she couldn’t quite hear, and then the car was moving towards the house. It crashed through the old, rotting wood before coming to a stop.

“Sam!” Jess screamed, running after him. Dean was just behind her. She skidded to a stop as they entered the room, seeing Sam climbing out of the car on his own. “Sam, are you ok?”

He nodded, taking her hand. “Look.”

Constance was standing in the center of the room, staring at the staircase with fear in her eyes. Water began to trickle down the stairs, although Jess couldn’t see where it was coming from.

“My children…” Constance breathed.

“Mother.” A pair of childlike voices echoed creepily. They appeared first at the top of the stairs, then beside Constance. “You’ve come home to us.”

They hugged her. There was a terrible scream as Jess looked away. When she looked back, all three ghosts were gone. All that remained was a small puddle on the wooden floor.

“It’s been great seeing you, Dean.” Jess told him honestly as she stepped out of the car a few hours later. Despite how… unorthodox their trip had been, she really had enjoyed the chance to see this other side of Sam’s life. Not that she ever wanted to do it again, of course, but she felt like she understood him a little better now.

(As it had turned out, nobody had actually gotten a good look at Sam’s face. In what appeared to be a _very_ lucky coincidence, the cameras at the police station had been malfunctioning during their brief visit. They had Dean’s first name, but no way to tie him to the Winchesters. In the morning, Jess would go down to the police station and give her statement. Two men- one of them coincidentally shared the same name as Sam’s brother- had taken her, broken her out of the police station when she’d been rescued, and then dropped her on the side of the road because she was “more trouble than she was worth.” She’d found a phone and called Sam, who had been worried sick about her. It was a simple story, but an effective one- there would be no reason for them to look any further at either of the Winchester boys, and Jess herself would be cleared of all blame.)

“You too, blondie.” He replied, an affectionate gleam in his eye. Honestly, Jess was shocked by how easily Dean had accepted her into the family. She supposed that saving him from getting hit by a car had _probably_ helped, but still. She appreciated it nonetheless.

“I’ll be inside.” She said, sensing that the brothers probably had a bit more to talk about. “Love you.”

She gave Sam a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing her jacket and heading towards the door. Sam would come up in his own time, but for now, she was exhausted. She couldn’t wait to crawl into bed and stay there until noon.

She took the elevator up, not wanting to injure herself more. She pulled out her key to unlock the door, but to her surprise, it was already open. She shook her head. They must have forgotten to lock it when they left. 

She stepped inside the apartment, shutting the door behind her. She tossed her coat over the darkened form of a chair, blindly reaching for the lightswitch.

She flicked it on, breathing a sigh of relief as she saw that everything was just where they’d left it. Not a break-in, then, just a simple case of forgetting to lock the door. She turned to go into their bedroom, yawning as she did so.

She froze. There was another person there, a figure leaning casually against the doorframe of their bedroom. “...Brady?” She asked, trying to surreptitiously reach for the door handle.

“Jess.” He greeted her, giving her a lazy smile. “Welcome home.”

His eyes flashed black.


End file.
